Category: authentic

When you hit old age before you’re old

I wake up with a weird, buzzing, anxious feeling in my chest. Everything is wrong, but nothing is wrong. Everything is scary, but nothing is scary. Everything is death around the corner, but death is not there. Restless. That’s what the ladies in an online support group I’m in call this feeling. I call it sheer terror. This buzzing,crazy, I’m-going- to -crawl- out of … Read More When you hit old age before you’re old

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Why I didn’t want to tell my son about the death of Anthony Bourdain

Originally written for another publication who rejected it because they said it had been published before (it hadn’t) and wasn’t timely (it is). Hmmm…Anyhow…figured I’d just publish it on my own blog instead. ______ I didn’t even know him. Not really. But yet it was almost like losing a close friend. I’d had a crappy night of sleep with two sick kids and I … Read More Why I didn’t want to tell my son about the death of Anthony Bourdain

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The soldier’s hat

I remember the day Harry gave my son the VFW hat.  We were at a celebration at the local Veterans of Foreign Wars where they were honoring Harry because he was moving from the area to live with family. I had taken Jonathan with me so I could grab a photograph for the local newspaper, but also so I could say goodbye to Harry, … Read More The soldier’s hat

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Dying ways of life and why we fight to hold on to them

When local farmer Scott Walrath recently told me farmers are stupidly in love with farming, I totally got it, maybe more than others who aren’t farmers would. For a long time I was in love with print journalism and now it, and farming, are two dying ways of life. I say ways of life because that is what both are. They are not occupations. … Read More Dying ways of life and why we fight to hold on to them

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Creative funks smell and feel funky

It isn’t unusual for me to hit a creative funk in the winter. Days are short, the sun hides behind clouds and it’s too cold to take the kids anywhere to explore. I still try my best to take photographs inside the house, or whichever building we have sought shelter in from the nasty cold of winter, but honestly my heart usually isn’t in … Read More Creative funks smell and feel funky

When you realize what you thought ‘won’t happen here’ is actually here, right in your backyard

Sitting in our homes in rural Pennsylvania we often watched the news and thought to ourselves, “Whew. Glad that’s not happening here.” We watched children being killed in their schools by children their own age and drug dealers being arrested and drive by shootings and little babies being killed by their mother’s live in boyfriend. And we thought, “Whew. Glad that’s not happening here.” … Read More When you realize what you thought ‘won’t happen here’ is actually here, right in your backyard

Windy, your ears are freezing

 Sometimes my dad writes little stories about growing up. That’s when I realize I must have got the storytelling bug from him. This is something he shared this week on Facebook. Story, photos and captions by Ronnie Robinson. ”Windy, Your Ears Are Freezing” It was a calm but frosty minus zero morning; one of those mornings you could see particles of frost glisten in … Read More Windy, your ears are freezing

A loss is a loss no matter how “small”

The ultrasound technician told me he couldn’t see a baby, a heartbeat, anything that should have been there at 12 weeks gestation. I didn’t know what this meant, imagining that somehow we had been off on our dates and it was too early to see anything in an ultrasound, but then again, I knew we couldn’t be that far off our dates. The midwife … Read More A loss is a loss no matter how “small”

One of us. One of the mourners.

Out of the two of them I worried about telling my 11 year old son the most. I dreaded it, in fact, but then I dreaded more the delay in being able to tell him; a delay caused by his spending time with a friend and then unexpected weather. My daughter is only three so I knew telling her her great aunt, who was … Read More One of us. One of the mourners.